The Boy I Remember
by Krinaia
Summary: Rory is in her senior year at Chilton, and who comes back into her life but Tristan DuGrey. But he comes back different. Very different.


Disclaimer: I'm getting sick of having to write these. Doesn't everyone know that nothing Gilmore Girls related belongs to me? No? Okay, I'm telling you now. Nothing Gilmore-Girl related belongs to me.

The Boy I Remember 

I remember his smile… you didn't see it very often, you usually see a smirk, but I've seen his smile… and I remember it. I remember _him_. I remember how he walked, always so tall and proud. Everyone wanted to be his friend, or date him. I remember the way his eyes always seemed to be laughing. As if he had some secret… like he was playing a little game. I hated it. But I remembered it. I remember _him_. I remember the boy who walked away from me, on that long ago Sunday.

I didn't recognize the boy who came back.

He no longer smiled, nor smirked. He walked with his shoulders slumped, walking at the side, instead of the middle of the hallway. His eyes were no longer laughing… they were replaced by this dull emptiness… it didn't look like it could be him.

He no longer leered at me, nor made lewd remarks. He no longer acted like he could do and get away with anything. 

He no longer called me Mary.

I remember the day clearly. It was the start of senior year. I walked to my new locker, and started fiddling with the lock. It took me five minutes to figure it out, but I still hadn't gotten it open. He walked to the locker next to me, not making eye contact. I would have ignored him too, but something about him was strangely familiar. When I finally got my locker open, I accidentally bumped into him. 

"Oh my god, I am _so_ sor-" I lost the power to speak. I looked at him, and I _knew_. "Tristan?"

The corners of his mouth quirked in what could be called a smile, but it was clear he didn't mean it. "Hi Rory."

That was it. No Mary, no smirk, no 'If you wanted to be in my arms, all you had to do was ask,' nothing. Just, 'Hi Rory' Not even a 'How are you?' So I said it instead.

"So how are you?" I asked, smiling.

"Good," he said briefly, and he turned to his locker.

"Rude much?" I asked, trying to tease.

He rolled his eyes and turned to me. "Sorry. What did you want?"

I was taken aback. "Tristan?"

"Yes?"

I shook my head. "You seem different."

"Maybe because I _am_ different. Excuse me, I have to go talk to Charleston."

Without saying anything more, he closed his locker and walked away.

I spied Paris walking towards me. "Who was that?" she asked.

I was still staring in shock.

"Rory? Who was that guy?"

"Tristan," I said, still staring of in the direction he had gone.

"Tristan who? Is he new?"

"No, Tristan _DuGrey_."

It was Paris' turn to look shocked. "Excuse me? Tristan DuGrey? That couldn't have been him. He's too thin for one. And, his body language was all wrong. And… why wouldn't we have heard he was coming back? I mean, it's Tristan DuGrey, there would have been a big parade and celebration hosted by his groupies if he came back."

"No, I talked to him… I'm sure it was him."

Paris shrugged. "Well, word travels fast around Chilton. We'll know soon enough."

"He was different."

"What?"

"He was different. He was… well, rude."

Paris smirked. "And Tristan was never rude to you before."

"No, I mean, really rude. As in, go-to-hell-and-leave-me-alone rude."

Now Paris looked confused. "Well, I guess we'll just have to see what happens next."

Well, Paris was right. By the end of the day, everyone knew that Tristan DuGrey was back. And that wasn't all. 

Tristan hadn't been kidding when he said he was different. He wasn't the center of attention, King of Chilton, rebel without a cause Tristan. He was this brooding guy, who would snap at anyone who tried to talk to him. He blew of his groupies, and his 'friends'. He sat alone every lunch, didn't talk to anyone. 

"Do you think he's okay?" I asked as we ate lunch. It had been two weeks since class started, and of course rumors about what had happened to Tristan spread like wildfire.

"I heard that he got in trouble at military school and got sent to prison," Louise replied. 

"I heard the same thing. Supposedly, he and his friends accidentally murdered someone."

"That's ridiculous," I answered.

Paris suddenly joined Madeleine, Louise, and I. "I found out what happened to Tristan. I heard it from the lunch lady, who heard it from the caterer at the Anderson's party, who overheard it from her cousin, who is the hair stylist of Mrs. DuGrey."

"So what happened?" I asked, intrigued.

"Drugs. He spent the last five months in a rehab center."

"Tristan?"

"Like you didn't know he was bad?"

"It just doesn't seem like him," I protested.

We all looked in Tristan's direction. He was eating by himself, at a table in the corner.

"I'm going to go talk to him."

"What? Why?"

"To ask what happened."

"Do you think he'd talk to _you_?" Paris asked.

I shrugged. "Either way, it looks like he needs company."

"Or doesn't want it," Madeleine supplied. 

I sighed, and got up. I sat down in the chair in front of him.

"Hey Tristan."

He looked up briefly. "Hi."

That was a start. At least he didn't tell me to leave him alone.

"So, Dean and I broke up, in case you were wondering," I said, trying to make conversation.

He nodded, but still looked uninterested. "Lot of drama from you again…" I said conversationally. 

He looked up at me. "What?"

"Well, you're not like you were before, and knowing Chilton, there are lots of rumors flying around."

"This is your way of trying to find out what happened to me. Why suddenly I don't act like a mindless idiot who-" Tristan sighed. "Never mind." He started to get up, and I got up and followed him. 

"Well, yes I want to know what happened to you, but I'm worried too." 

"I don't think anything that I do or did is your business."

"Tristan, all I'm asking is for you and I to talk that's all."

He sighed, clearly exasperated. "Why do you care?"

I looked at him steadily. "Because, even though everyone is talking about what happened to you, no one really seems to care."

He was silent for a while. 

"If I wanted everyone to care, I wouldn't have ignored everyone." 

I let him walk past me instead of following him. 

"I bet your wondering the same thing everyone else is," Matt Wilde, my boyfriend greeted me.

I spun around and he kissed me quickly. "Yeah, I mean… that's not like him. With all the rumors, the one about drugs being the most plausible, and the one about being used as a test subject in a cloning experiment the least, you really have to wonder."

"If it had been anyone else, no one would care. But this is Tristan DuGrey, he was like royalty here at Chilton," Matt replied.

I nodded.

"Did you guys ever date?" Matt asked, staring at the ground.

"Tristan and I? No!" I laughed. Matt was still looking after Tristan suspiciously. "Are you _jealous_ of him?"

Matt grinned sheepishly. "I had to ask. I mean, the whole staring at you in class when he thought no one noticed was a huge statement that he liked you."

I had to smile. Tristan? Liking me? That was funny. "Either that, or he wanted to make me uncomfortable."

"Why? Is it so impossible for Tristan to have feelings for you?"

"Yes."

"Anyone would fall for you. You're beautiful, smart, funny…"

I grinned. "And you are so sweet. But you have to say that. You're my boyfriend. But seriously…"

"I think it's very possible for Tristan to change. Actually, he already has. Drastically."

I nodded again. "So, why are you here?"

Matt frowned. "Do I need a reason to talk to my girlfriend?"

"Well, no, but I know that look. You're going to ask me something. Spill."

Matt smiled. "Okay, you got me. Brad's party is on Friday, and I'd love it if you came."

"Friday? Matt, you know I can't."

"Can't you get out of it? Just this once?"

I sighed. "No. But, you go. It'll be fun."

"If you don't go, I don't go. It won't be fun without you."

The bell rang.

I looked at Matt. "I'll try to get out of it. But no guarantees."

Matt smiled at me, and kissed me before going to his next class.

I went to the library after class. I planned on spending an hour there, to get my homework for the next day done. There were very few people there. I was familiar with most of most of them because I was often at the library. On that particular day, who should be there but Tristan DuGrey. The journalist in me made me go talk to him. Or at least that was what I told myself. The fact that he looked so lost, alone, and miserable had nothing to do with it.

"Tristan, hi."

He turned to me. "Hi," he said flatly. It was clearly a dismissal.

"I wanted to apologize for how I acted a while ago," I began nervously.

He looked confused. "Why?"

"For trying to pry? I know it wasn't any of my business," I finished.

He looked at me for a second, and then shook his head and smiled. "Only you would do that."

What he said didn't really register. When he smiled, I saw the Tristan I knew again. It was comforting to know that the Tristan I knew wasn't completely lost.

 "So… how did your reunion with Paris go? Did she yell at you for nearly making us fail English lit last year?" I tried to get Tristan to talk.

He cocked his head to the side, a little of the old Tristan coming back. "No, surprisingly. She went to me and asked 'What happened to _you_?'" 

"That's Paris, straight to the point."

He nodded. "Why'd you break up with the stock boy?"

"So you _do_ care."

Tristan smiled wryly. "Let's just say my curiosity is getting the better of me."

"He moved back to Chicago a few months back. We decided not to try the long distance thing."

He nodded.

"How about you? Dating anyone?"

"You think?"

"I guess not," I admitted.

"How about you?"

"Uh, yeah. Matt Wilde? Do you know him?"

Tristan nodded. "We were friends."

What? How come Matt never told me that? He was Tristan's friend… Tristan's friends were all… well, like he used to be. Players. "You were?"

He looked at the floor before looking at me. "Yeah. But, not in high school. When we were kids. We used to be best friends, actually."

"What happened?"

"When we got into Chilton, I got… how I got, and Matt got how he did. We drifted apart."

I felt relieved. 

Tristan was silent before finally speaking again. "Matt's a great guy. You guys deserve each other."

I suddenly didn't know what to say. What had seemed so easy to do now felt awkward. "Thanks."

He smiled at me, and I saw again clearly the boy who's parting words had been 'Take care of yourself… Mary.'

"Rory!" both Tristan and I turned to see Matt coming towards us. Tristan's smile and open, engaging personality seemed to disappear again. Back was the boy with the go-to-hell-and-leave-me-alone attitude.

"Hey Tristan," Matt greeted cautiously. Tristan didn't reply. "Um, Rory, are you ready?"

"Yeah," I said breathlessly. Matt suddenly became suspicious. "Just let me get my books."

Matt nodded. 

"Bye Rory, Matt," Tristan said tonelessly before he walked out of the library.

Matt watched him leave while I got my books. He promptly got them from me while we walked towards his car. 

"Is or was there anything going between you two?" Matt finally asked. 

I looked at him. "No!"

Matt nodded.

"Uh, well, we kissed once."

"You did?" Matt's voice was carefully controlled.

"But that was it. That was _all_. Unless you count the concert fiasco."

"What was the concert fiasco?"

I sighed. "Matt, you don't need to know. I never had, and don't have feelings for Tristan DuGrey."

"I never knew that you and Tristan were together."

"We weren't together. We were both on the rebound, we kissed, I realized it was a mistake, and _nothing_ happened. Besides, I'm not the one who was keeping something."

It was Matt's turn to be confused. "What?"

"You guys were best friends?"

Matt looked down in embarrassment. "Yeah. We were. It's not something I'm proud of."

"Why not?"

"Rory, Tristan's reputation… well…"

I decided to stop. He looked cute when he was uncomfortable. "It's okay. I know what you mean. Pretty hard to believe though."

Matt grinned wryly. "Well, believe it or not, Tristan was a lot different when we were younger. He was very down-to-earth and fun to be with. We were really alike. Both bookish-"

"Wait, Tristan was bookish?" I laughed.

Matt nodded. "Yup. He wore glasses."

"Tristan? No way!"

"Yeah. I don't know if he still does, or wears contacts though."

"Oh my god! Do you have any pictures?"

Matt grinned. "Yeah, but the problem is they have _me_ in it, and I look just as bad as Tristan."

"I wanna see!"

"No way!"

"I'll pay you!"

"No!"

"I'll give you coffee every morning!"

"That would be a treat for _you_."

"I'll do your homework!"

"Tempting, but no. Come on, you can offer better than that! I'm waiting for the yes to Friday's party."

I sighed dramatically. "How about a date on Saturday?"

"We already _have_ a date for Saturday."

"Exactly. If I don't get the pictures, I don't go."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I don't want copies made, I don't want you to bring it home to Lorelai, I don't want to find it circulating in the black market at Chilton-"

"There's a black market at Chilton?"

"Yeah. You wouldn't believe the stuff they sell."

"You don't say? Like drugs and stuff?"

"Pictures, videos, and even pencils."

"Pencils?"

"Pencils of the popular people. You'd be surprised at how much they sell."

"You're kidding!"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Yes."

"When?"

I thought for a moment. "I can't remember right off, but I will. Give me a sec."

He grinned. "I have _never_ lied to you."

I furiously racked my brains.  "I know!!!"

Matt's grin faded. "You mean I _have_?"

"Last month! You told me you wanted to go for a walk, just the two of us."

Matt thought for a moment. "That was for your surprise birthday!"

"You still lied!"

Matt sighed. "I guess I should know better than to argue with you."

"Never argue with a Gilmore."

"Of course your highness."


End file.
